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THE RUN WITHIN

THE RUN WITHIN

I awaken to the world’s turn, the world’s run. The day before me lies bare outside my window, therefore the run. There may be dew on the ground, there may be snow, there may be rain, or the ground may be dry. But I will find a trail, a path, the track or road because none will come to me. To begin, I pain myself in routine stretch, where hamstring sting momentarily interrupts the butterflies in my helpless gut. I crave a run’s symphony: the whispered breeze a quick spirit brings, gravel or leaves crunching beneath my striding feet, the dance-like tap of toes on concrete or track where hurdles and milestone are systematically conquered – how they mysteriously fade into dynamic sounds within: the heart’s rhythmic pound, the echo of cadenced breathing. I define distance using lines – lane lines, start and finish lines, the lines of roads and sidewalks and of beautiful horizon – how they blur while I methodically stride out and how they sharpen again when my moist eyes blink hard near a run’s culmination. I confront unforgiving hills with vigor, and I embrace the inevitable exhaustion that follows. And before I outrun either time or opponent or the world’s turn, I remember that running smart supersedes running hard. I awaken to my own path: the path that allows burning feet to lay tracks. A path to one more hill. One more mile. One second faster. I awaken to the run outside, and each day I live The Run Within.

Author unknown – Taken from an inspirational photo and quote by “oldschoolathletics.com”